Locked In

This is a contest entry for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"  (as a part of the Writer's League Challenge) using the following prompt:

Write a story in which someone hides.

298 words

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         Little Mackenzie Barnett ran into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind her. She knew that her baby-sitter Loraine would never think to look for her in there.

         “Ninety-nine, one-hundred. Ready or not, here I come!” Loraine Thomas yelled. She hated playing hide-and-go-seek because she was claustrophobic. Crawling into tiny spaces and waiting for someone to scare the living daylights out of you was not Loraine’s idea of fun.

         She began looking for Mackenzie in the dining room. She wasn’t under the table, in the china cabinet, or behind the door. Fifteen minutes later, after having looked everywhere, Loraine still hadn’t found her.

         “Mackenzie, I give up! Come out!” Loraine demanded. Secretly, she was starting to get a little worried. Then she remembered the one place she hadn’t thought to look.

         “Are you in there, Mackenzie?” Loraine asked, knocking on the bathroom door. She turned the handle to open it, but to her surprise, it wouldn’t turn. “Mackenzie, open up!” Silence. Loraine began to panic, but waited by the door.

         “I-I can’t,” a muffled voice replied finally.

         “Why not?”

         “I’m locked in,” Mackenzie replied.

         “Well, unlock the door!” A frustrated Loraine ordered.

         “I can’t. It’s stuck.”

         Loraine sighed. She tried again to open the door, but Mackenzie was right. It was stuck. And Loraine wasn’t strong enough to kick the door down.

         “Loraine, I’m bored,” Mackenzie whined.

         “And I’m angry,” Loraine snapped, giving the door one last kick. “Stay there, Mackenzie. I’m going to call 911.” Then she realized how ridiculous she sounded, and laughed. Mackenzie wasn’t going anywhere.

         Loraine trudged into the kitchen. This was just great. Wait until the Barnetts came home and saw an ambulance sitting in their driveway.

         Oh well. At least if Mrs. Barnett fainted, they’d have an ambulance on call.

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